


Miracle Child

by Flapjaw



Series: To Defy God And State [1]
Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, Ethereal Fish, F/M, Furry, Literal Catfights, M/M, Marijuana, Memories, Multi, Mushrooms, Padded Fingers, Pentagrams, Recovered Memories, Space Bugs - Freeform, The Band - Freeform, dreamscape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-03 01:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11521854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flapjaw/pseuds/Flapjaw
Summary: Mae endeavors to get closer to the memory of Casey, and as she does she reconnects with his parents and discovers just how much she meant to him. However, she may be forced to learn a few things she'd rather have left unknown in the process.





	1. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mae and Angus tell the Hartleys what really happened to their son.
> 
> Image by WindBirds. Go favorite it. https://windbirds.deviantart.com/art/Entering-A-Dream-670147357

The music made Mae's heart thump, the rhythmic banging of Casey's drums behind her setting the pace of her own nimble fingers. Her fleshy pads were gaining a slight callous from how often she played Gregg's bass in Casey's garage, the fox himself thrashing out notes from his guitar like a creature possessed. Angus would always growl into the microphone, as if he had a deep sadness that churned into anger by the time it reached the surface during their performances to no one. Casey always pushed for this, saying it was good for them, saying that one day they might get noticed and leave Possum Springs behind as they go on some grand tour.  
  
But Mae wasn't playing Gregg's old bass in Casey's garage, not really. She held her own bass in her attic bedroom, not even plugged into her amp, her eyes screwed shut as she just remembered. She tried to remember more strongly; she wanted to feel Casey's drum solo shaking her bones. It wasn't working, the rhythm she'd almost returned to leaving her and ripping tears from her eyes as it passed. She threw her bass against the floor and slumped into her futon, crying into her barely calloused paws, the skin having healed and softened while she was away at college. Casey seemed to be fading away, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, unless she did what Gregg and Bea were too afraid to do.  
  
There were recordings, she knew. Trashy recordings of their practice sessions were out there, waiting to be heard, waiting to transport her to the past for just a little while. A small piece of Casey's life that she could still touch, but none of it was hers to have. She had to do it, not just for them but for herself. She had to tell Casey's parents what really happened to him, and she knew only one person who was strong enough and kind enough to help her do it. She opened her laptop and began to type. “Hey Angus. I need your help. When's your next day off?”

 

* * *

 

Her arms trembled with emotion at her sides, her mind transported to a piece of her past, staring at the door to Casey's house as she stood transfixed on the porch. “You can do this, Mae.” She felt a comforting paw on her shoulder, Angus' presence helping her arms to steady while she lifted her knuckles to the door and finally managed to knock.  
  
“Thanks for reminding me to like, check that they're off too. Also for like, calling them so I didn't have to.” Angus just gave her shoulder a light squeeze, and Mae was overcome with a thrill of sudden confidence in her decision. Angus was the right guy for this. She knew he'd be able to help the older cats the same way he was helping her.  
  
There were light, padded footsteps getting closer, until Casey's mother was peeking through the door, but she wasn't peeking long. She recognized them immediately and threw the door ajar, spreading her arms wide with a toothy smile. “Eeeee! Oh would you look who it is! George, little Mae's come to see us, and she brought the big guy!”  
  
“Well get them in here, already!” Her husband's voice shouted back from the kitchen. “I need the opinion of a true culinary artist!” Angus had kept in touch with the Hartley's and they liked to profess his skills as a cook, the compliment making Angus scratch the back of his neck nervously as Lillian moved out of his way. He glanced at Mae to assess if she'd be alright without him, and she gave a tired nod. Lillian was a bit puzzled by this display, but she shrugged it off when Angus went to help George finish up dinner.  
  
Lillian still had those brilliant, recessive cobalt eyes, and her orange fur shined like she'd just showered. It was a little odd that she was already wearing a nightgown at four in the afternoon, but since she had the day off Mae couldn't really blame her for it. She used to dress to impress whenever anyone was coming to her home, even if they were just Casey's school friends, but that was obviously no longer the case. She wasn't wearing any makeup either, further evidence that she was already prepared for bed even before dinner. When she turned from Mae to the hall her posture slackened slightly, and her steps were slow and methodical, as if she still hadn't managed to move on from Casey's disappearance.  
  
Mae wasn't fairing any better than her hostess, glancing every-which-way at the pictures on the wall, most of them featuring Casey, and a number of those had her in the shot with him; they had been like brother and sister since elementary school. Mae thought for just a second that it might be easier to shut it out, to put her head down and ignore the memories on the wall, but she refused to. This was why she came: to remember him more clearly. No matter how painful it was, she needed this, and by the time she and Lillian were sitting on the living room couch they were both wearing small smiles.  
  
They talked uncomfortably about inconsequential things while Angus and George were still cooking, Mae dodging any questions about college and Lillian insisting that Mae call her “Lily” rather than “Mrs. Hartley.” Mae idly wondered what the Hell was taking so long as Lily asked yet another question she didn't want to answer, turning on the TV and switching to the news at the same time.  
  
“Are you still avidly avoiding dresses? I know a few styles that would look splendid on you.” Mae just shook her head, not really paying attention as she saw the commercial end and the cast picked up again.  
  
“The list of missing persons has reached a staggering twenty-one in the little town of Possum Springs, all of these having been confirmed to have disappeared on the same day. With the Possum Springs police chief among the lost souls, the state police are preparing a plan to intervene on behalf of the understaffed Deep Hollow County. If you missed our earlier broadcast, three of the county's officers, including their police chief, are also missing. The state commissioner had this to say.”  
  
“As far as I'm concerned these crimes are clearly connected. I don't think all of these individuals went missing of their own accord at the same time, that's obvious to anyone. The perpetrators already know that we know this, and I can assure you that whoever dares to target our citizens and our officers will be brought to justice.”  
  
Angus and George had just stepped into the room at the tail end of that statement, and Angus gently took the remote from Lily's paw to turn off the television, standing in front of it and facing the rest of the room. There wasn't enough room on the couch for four people, just three, but Mae stood up to join Angus anyway, clearly dividing the room into those who knew and those who would be told as George sat by his wife and gripped her paw. Mae stared into his strong green eyes, reminded of Casey's, but they looked so different on George, so full of fear and uncertainty now that the atmosphere had so drastically changed. Had Casey's eyes looked like that when the cult pushed him into that hole?  
  
“I guess we don't have to bring up all the missing people ourselves, now that the news has summed it up for us.” Mae was impressed with how composed and articulate Angus was, gripping his paw to show her support. “Those people didn't just disappear. They formed a cult in the 90s.” Lily visibly scoffed and George looked confused, but Angus didn't let it bother him, continuing his explanation. Angus started listing off names of people he had researched who had disappeared since the cult's supposed founding decade, even though most of them had been people society didn't care to keep track of like Bruce. Eventually Angus got to the name that made Mae tense up and grip his paw harder, “...and your son, Casey Hartley, are the nine people out of thirty-nine sacrifices they claim to have made to this god of theirs that I can confirm.”  
  
“What the Hell are you doing!?” Lily shouted, shaking so erratically that Mae wondered how long she could stay upright in her seat. “Are you trying to.. to help us m-move on, or something?”

“Lily,” Mae tried desperately to interject, but Lily was furious.  
  
“I don't want to hear it, Margaret!”  
  
“Stop.” Angus stepped to the left in front of Mae, putting himself between her and Casey's shocked parents. “We're telling you the truth. Look up those names in the library records. All those people who just disappeared got exactly what they put plenty more people through. They deserve to die, and they will.”  
  
“Is that supposed to console me? Is that supposed to make this okay?” George seemed to be accepting what Angus was telling them, keeping his paws on his wife's shoulders as if to restrain her from getting physical. His eyes were already wet with tears, mitigated only by his confusion. What Angus was saying seemed so insane, but he'd never heard Angus lie.  
  
Mae, on the other hand, was barely restrained in time, Angus holding her to his chest as she stormed forward, glaring at Lily. “It's not okay!” she screamed, “and it will never be okay! We aren't here to help you move on. I haven't moved on! The only reason I came here is because I thought you deserved to know the truth.” By the time Mae was finished and her anger had dissolved into despair there was no longer any question that they were speaking truth, Lily crying into her husband's shoulder while Mae collapsed in Angus' arms, both of them too shaken to stand and soon seated on the floor. “They shot at me,” she continued, her voice sad and distant. “Then they apologized. Said I was family, that they wanted me to do what they did.” Angus gulped as Lily's grip on George tensed. He was sure Mae shouldn't be saying so much about the details, but she kept going. “So why did they kill Casey? He was.. he was my family, too.” George was crying as hard as his wife at that point, and Angus had to remove his glasses to wipe at his own eyes, unsure how to help any of them.

It didn't last forever, and the Hartley's showed their fortitude by having dinner with Angus and Mae as they'd decided before receiving the news. Lily went to bed early, since she had an early shift the next day, and George made copies of the old band recordings for Angus and Mae at Mae's request. He showed them Casey's room as he retrieved the original files, everything exactly as it had been when Casey was taken, save for all the dusting and sweeping that kept the place spotless. Perhaps they would finally re-purpose the room, now that they knew Casey wasn't coming home, but as Mae ran her fingers along the edge of one of his drums she hoped that they never would.  
  
They had resolved to walk the whole way back to their homes, since Bea was using her truck for work and they hadn't wanted to talk to her about what they were doing, but George had insisted on driving them when he realized this. Angus was dropped off first, since his apartment was on the way to Mae's house, and then the two cats were alone, a moment of silence passing between them before George spoke in a calm, soft tone. “He loved you, you know.” Mae glanced his way, but his eyes remained focused on the road.  
  
“Yeah, we were pretty close friends.”  
  
“You know I didn't mean that.” Mae looked away, unable to form a verbal response, letting the memories churn as moments that almost confirmed what she was hearing surfaced. “When Gregg stopped you mid confession – and trust me, he knew that's what you were trying to do – Casey had a lot of bad things to say about him after that, until one big fight between them that finally helped Casey understand that Gregg had nothing against you. He was just gay. They were both young, and Casey didn't understand at first. Still, that's when Gregg started helping Casey with you, as he put it. It didn't matter how many times I told them to stop playing games and just do something direct. I wanted him to just ask you, but then you met Cole and instantly they both hated him, especially Gregg. Now you know why. There really wasn't any other reason.”  
  
Mae wanted to cry, but she didn't have the energy to anymore. “Thank you for telling me.”  
  
“You started this truth business. I'm glad I know what really happened to him, thanks to you. Lily will thank you too, when she comes to her senses.” They looked at each other directly, unspeakable emotions passing between them. Finally George just smiled, gestured with his head, and watched Mae open the door on her side of the car. He kept his eyes on her and the area around her house while she walked to the front door, his expression souring as he looked for anyone else, now sure that there was at least one person out there who wanted to hurt Mae badly for fighting back. If he had to he would die protecting her, protecting any of them. He wouldn't let Casey's friends leave the world the same way he had.  
  
But nothing terrible happened this time, not with him sitting there and watching. Stan Borowski opened the front door, looked at George through the window, and gave a small nod of understanding just as Mae passed the threshold. Mae hadn't seemed to notice any of it.  
  
While George was driving away and Mae was climbing to her room, looking as if she was in a trance, Stan pulled the tooth she'd given him from his pocket, staring at it and muttering, “This house is haunted,” back at himself. “I'm starting to see what he meant by that.” Then he closed the door and navigated to the master bedroom where his wife was already sleeping.


	2. The Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mae sees a familiar face.

Mae found herself suspended in the air above her futon, her whole body glowing in the same way it always did during one of her more significant dreams. With a startled gasp she shook in the air, gravity returning to her suddenly as she bounced and stumbled to her feet. Having been in that odd state was shocking enough, but what was moreso was her nudity and the youth of her body. She'd never been without clothes in these dreams, and she'd never been this young either. When she'd been so young her grandfather had still been alive, reading her ghost stories at night. “So, what do you think it means?” Suddenly she was wearing the nightgown he'd bought her for her tenth birthday, and she looked up to find him standing there, his reading glasses on his face and a book in his hands.  
  
“I don't understand the point,” she admitted, fidgeting nervously. “Bea says stories are supposed to have happy endings. When I watch movies with her the good guys always win in the end, but I don't even feel good, and there's never really an end. Your stories never end, they just stop being told. What happened to Adina? Where did she disappear to?”  
  
“What happened to you, in that mine? Do you remember?” Mae started to slowly circle around him toward the door, and with every step she took she was another year older, wearing something else, and he was changing too. She stepped to the year when he died, but he was still standing there. “Did he sing to you?” She took another step. He wasn't wearing his glasses anymore. She kept moving. His face grew colder, unkempt. His fur was longer, wilder like his eyes. His grimace was beyond angry, filled with righteous fury. “Do you have ANY idea what He wants for you!? You're throwing away your future!”  
  
“No...” That face, that voice, it was too familiar. She had recognized something ghostly in him long ago, but she tried to suppress it. She knew he was a ghost, but she didn't want to believe the reason why she knew. “You died.”  
  
“And by the grace of a God I live again.” She took a step back toward the door and he was missing an arm, the one he lost to the falling elevator. After another step the stump was wrapped and healing. “You think there is only one God? You think their power comes from nothing? Gods have to eat too, and useless people are their food.” Mae couldn't listen to him say that, throwing a fist at his face, but he caught her arm with his remaining hand, sneering at her. “I thought I'd prepared you better for this, but here you are, rejecting your birthright.” She desperately bit his arm, forcing him to let go and growl in pain as she stumbled back and closed the door.  
  
A half-second later and he had stepped through it as if it wasn't even there, his glimmering robe blowing in an unseen wind. “Shit!” she yelled, turning and running down the two flights of stairs and rushing out into the street. He was chasing her as he had many times before, but this time he wasn't wearing his mask nor his helmet, the anger and frustration in his face on full display. “I loved you! I thought you were a good person!”  
  
“You understand nothing! Look around you at this vastness, at the beauty you see in your dreams. This is but one of the many gifts he has already granted you.” She did look around, seeing ethereal fish gliding through the landscape, ghostly trains passing over the street, constellations she recognized shining brighter than the other stars, muffled explosions from a distant war lighting the horizon. “His hole is infinitely deep. We will not run out of air. We will return and you will have a decision to make.”  
  
“Eff off, asshole!” The world was bent and twisted around her, such that already she was approaching Casey's house. She could see more of the shadow people, the remnants of the people The Black Goat had consumed over the millennia. There were so many, she couldn't hope to count and keep track of them all. It no longer surprised her that the Deep Hollow Hollerers looked more whole and glowed like she did. They weren't consumed sacrifices, but were actively serving the Gods, playing music for them to sing to. She saw them in the windows of Casey's house, playing a fast and haunting tune that matched her fast heartbeat during this chase. She wouldn't let her grandfather reach that house, skidding to a halt and defiantly turning around to face him. “Whatever your master is offering I'm refusing! I'll kill you myself if I have to!” It brought tears to her eyes to say it, looking into his eyes she could see the ghost of the man she thought he was, and what she said next burned in her throat. “Get back in the dirt where you belong, murderer!”  
  
Eide pulled a Luger pistol from his coat pocket and aimed at Mae, casually pulling the trigger, but the bullet was slower than it should have been, just like the way Mae always fell from the apex of a jump more slowly in the dreamscape, and she was able to leap out of the way as it zipped past the hem of her shirt. He fired again and again and Mae jumped or rolled or twisted out of the way every time until Eide was out of bullets, tossing the gun aside. “Do you see how fast he has made you here? Imagine taking that power into the physical world. That is what he offers you, the first of many very real advantages over those who are unworthy of his gifts. He can feel the future. He grants you so much because He knows that you will serve Him one day.”  
  
“Well then dipshit McGoatfuck is wrong.” Mae said with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest. “I'll never forgive either of you for what you did to Casey.”  
  
Then Eide lowered himself to his knees and the Hollerers stopped playing their song. He closed his eyes and spoke while cutting three glowing red pentagrams into the air with his claws, one above the other two and between them like a third eye. “Oh terrible blackness between the stars, grant to me the strength to show this child the error of her ways.”  
  
“You're actually praying to it now. Here I thought you couldn't get any more pathetic.” She swallowed hard as the wind increased in intensity around them, the improvised bandages on the stump of Eide's arm falling away and brightly glimmering dust swirling around the wound unnaturally. “Uhm.. that's not fair at all.” First the bones began to materialize from the stump, then the muscles, and finally the skin. “S-see, when people pray usually nothing happens at all.” Eide grit his teeth as the warped gray skin slowly smoothed out, his hand clenching as he flexed the new limb and black fur slowly grew from it, several shades darker than his natural fur color that Mae could see on the rest of him. “Oh my God.”  
  
“Now you are going to start listening.” As Eide stood and the pentagrams faded from the air the world around her came into finer focus and she began to see clearly that which had always been hidden at the edge of her perception. Large, buzzing insect-like creatures were all along the edges of the twisted world, gnawing at the cracks where one environment met another. Incomprehensively massive tentacles stretched through the sky as if they were both far off in space and near at the same time, and several strange shapes that she somehow knew where eyes blinked down at her, black shapes flitting speedily through the air, and echoes of death carrying on the wind. She thought she heard someone say Anselm's name and rank in a panicked voice.  
  
Her grandfather was on top of her before she knew what was happening, his newly grown fingers gripping her neck as he held her against the ground. “I might be wrong about you. Maybe you get your power from somewhere else. Maybe you'll never help us. But that choice is going to determine whether you live or die. Everyone you care about only matters because you care about them. If you refuse us again, you aren't the only one who will suffer. Do you understand?”  
  
When his grip loosened so she could answer she glared up at him, her eyes burning like two angry suns. “My granddad is dead.” She spat at him and dug her claws into his new arm. “Go to Hell, Eide!” He growled and swiped at her with his natural paw, his claws cutting into her skin and extracting blood that glowed the same fluorescent lavender as her eyes.  
  
“Mae!?” When Eide looked toward the voice all he saw was the bottom of a skateboard heading in his direction. The cheap wood cracked apart from the force of the impact, smashing Eide's face and forcing him to let Mae go as he glided backwards. In the next second his own blood was extracted from an injury that matched Mae's, glowing the same way hers did. Before the third cat on the scene could do anything more to him Eide was fleeing into the distance, his form slowly fading into ever more sparse pinpricks of light until he was back in the waking world.  
  
“Mae, are you alright?” His shining emerald eyes and fiery orange fur made him stand out like a radiant angel, and Mae was too shocked to answer, letting him drag her back to her feet and staring in stupefied joy. It was him.  
  
It was Casey Hartley.


	3. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drug up to ignore your problems.

“Don't keep me waiting, Mae.” It was the year Mae was meant to go off to college, and she wasn't equipped to handle the impending pressure unless she had a bubbler in her hand and some of its payload in her lungs, such as right now. “I bought the stuff you're smoking _and_ I made the brownies. The least you could do is pass it to me within this century.” It was all up to her. She had to be the one person in her family who wasn't a complete screw-up.  
  
“Earth to Mae. Is there anyone home?” Casey waved his hand in front of Mae's face, and she finally seemed to register that he was there again, groaning and rubbing her eyes as she passed the bubbler.  
  
“Sorry, Casey. Guess I spaced out.”  
  
“Don't worry about it. That's kind of the point of all this anyway.” Casey shifted his focus as Gregg returned with another six pack of hard cider, snatching one up before inhaling more smoke and passing the bubbler to Gregg.  
  
“I'm not sure which will be worse,” Mae bemoaned, “not seeing you guys anymore or dealing with my new professors.”  
  
“What's wrong with professors, dude?” Gregg asked before lighting up, already high as Hell. The brownies always seemed to hit him first, as if he just had a faster metabolism than the cats.  
  
“I've met exactly one teacher I actually liked, and I don't expect professors to be much different. They're just like, teachers who are even more full of themselves.”  
  
“Someone is in a sour mood.”  
  
“Shrooms would help with that, if you little kitties weren't so scared to try them.”  
  
“Eff off with that,” Casey rebuked, chugging some cider. “I tried 'em at prom.”  
  
“You had half of one, scaredy cat.”  
  
“I'm the real premo pussy,” Mae interjected, the marijuana and alcohol clearly starting to effect her more drastically. “'Cuz I ain't even tried it at all y-” she hiccuped, “yet. Uuugh.”  
  
“Dude, don't get the hiccups.” She did it again as soon as Gregg finished talking. “God damn it.”  
  
“I could go for some premo pussy, honestly.” Casey was smacking his paw into Mae's back, as if that would help the hiccups stop somehow. “I haven't had any in awhile.”  
  
“If “awhile” meant “ever” then I'd agree with you,” Gregg added unhelpfully, Casey glaring daggers at him while Mae giggled at them between hiccups. She was terrible at handling alcohol, so Casey just let her take the occasional sip from his drink so he could keep her from drinking too much. He may have failed in his mission.  
  
“I love you guys.” Mae fell over against Casey's chest, purring softly as the drugs in her system carried her to a state of unconsciousness. She breathed in the scent of him, the scent of home, no longer worrying about the fact that she'd have to leave, but simply enjoying that she hadn't yet left.  
  
But her memory trance showed her something she hadn't been aware of when she'd first experienced it. In her mind she heard and understood what had been white noise when she'd first experienced it.

 

“You should tell her before she leaves, dude. Cole is already out of the way.” Gregg's voice was serious and sharp, as if his years of partying on hard drugs allowed him to handle the lighter stuff with ease, and he just pretended to be intoxicated for the sake of the others.  
  
“I told you not to keep on with that, man.” Casey was stroking her head gently, holding her to his chest so she wouldn't fall to the ground. His voice was shaky, like he wasn't sure of anything. “I'm not smart enough for her. Cole is. I never thought her father would suddenly shape up. I never thought they'd be able to send her to college. As soon as they could I gave up, because she deserves to live that life with him.”  
  
“Oh come on, he's got nothing on you! You're a hot drummer with a skateboard. What does Cole have? Glasses? A lack of interesting hobbies? Mae wrote a whole song about how terrible he is.”  
  
“Because he didn't want a long distance relationship. And who convinced him those were such a terrible idea?” Casey's voice grew angrier and more firm, his claws lightly scratching Mae's skin. “Who convinced him to dump her, Gregg?”  
  
“Who asked me to, Casey?” Gregg was indignant, flailing his arms in Casey's direction.  
  
“That was years ago. I was a selfish kid, and instead of just telling her how I felt--”  
  
“So tell her now.”  
  
“I can't, you asshole! I can't ruin her chance to meet someone who is actually worth a shit outside this town for garbage people like us!”

 

Mae groaned as her senses started to return, her paws pushing weakly at Casey's, his grip having become unbearably tight. “Leggo, fuckhead.”  
  
“Oh shit, sorry.” Casey's voice dripped with worry and regret as he let go and stared at Mae, Gregg and he both waiting with baited breath to see if Mae had heard what they were talking about. Edibles, smoke, and beer was just too much, and Casey internally reprimanded himself for getting so intoxicated with Gregg nearby.  
  
“Could you two, like, not scream so effing loud next time? You're making my head hurt.” After she said it she watched them closely, their gradually relaxing postures accompanying her growing smirk as she zeroed in on Gregg. “Give me some shrooms.”  
  
“I thought you'd never ask!” Gregg was ecstatic immediately, reaching into a hidden pocket on the inside of his jacket like a professional drug-dealer to deliver a small handful of mushrooms. That's how Mae saw the situation, anyway; she snatched them up and had them inches from her mouth when Gregg hastily pulled her hand back down. “Careful! Jeez, dude. You were about to eat enough for all three of us on your own!”  
  
“What can I say,” she said, tilting her head and staring at him with a massive grin. “I'm crazy. AWOOOOOO!”  
  
“AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Hahaha!” Gregg portioned them out properly, but Casey was still under the impression that there were a few too many for them to handle.  
  
“This is a bad idea.” He shrugged, frowning while staring down at his hand, reflecting on the long failure that was his life. “But what the Hell,” he declared with a hollow voice, the others following his example after he ate the handful of mushrooms. With the deed done and his friends smiling at him Casey let his past disappear behind the haze of marijuana once again. “This is gonna be dope. What are we doin' until the trip hits?”  
  
“Just chill, dudes. You don't wanna get worked up before it starts.”

Several minutes passed without further incident. Mae managed to keep her eyes open, and they talked about nothing in particular incessantly. The longer they spoke, the more Gregg laughed, the more Casey's country drawl became apparent, and the more Mae spoke in a deadpan. Her eyes were becoming difficult to look at, as if murder and carnage brewed in their depths, and her friends were having a hard time masking their discomfort.  
  
“Guys, do these shrooms even do anything? How long has it been, anyway.”  
  
“Dude, chill. It'll hit, okay?” Gregg began to fidget his thumbs together, gazing around at the trees all around them, looking to the swaying leaves, the gentle glow of Casey's fur, which he was sure was the start of his trip, but he couldn't stop glancing back at Mae's burning eyes. “Could you stop staring at me like that?”  
  
“Like what?”

 

_“Borowski! Get the Hell up! What the fuck are you doing!?”_

 

“Aaaaugh!” Mae gripped her head in her paws, bending forward in inexplicable agony. Even though he was starting see flashing lights and twisting, walking plants, Casey pushed past his own delusions and held onto Mae, stroking her arms in an attempt to comfort her in spite of whatever she was seeing. It wasn't enough. Mae was staring into Hell.

 

* * *

 

 _“Anselm! What the fuck!?”_  
  
_“He's still alive, Hartley!”_  
  
_“We are completely out of medical supplies! Drop him and let's go before we're buried in mortar shells!” Anselm did as instructed with an angry growl, lifting his M1 Garand to a ready position and turning his back on the unconscious wolf. Their unit had been cut off from extraction for almost a week and their radios were busted. They'd run from skirmish to skirmish with no real idea of why the fighting had escalated so much since they'd first landed. The Sergeant wasn't one to question orders, so he hadn't spent much time trying to guess at the motives of his superiors, and Anselm just wanted to survive long enough to find out for certain. Their chances were looking bleak now that they were the only two left._  
  
_“Flamer kill team on our right, real close.” Hartley peeked up after Anselm called it out to judge the distance, barely getting back down before being spotted. He twisted his left ear to get a better read on the mortar fire, confirming his suspicions. Before voicing his concerns he had to get rid of the Nazis on approach. He exchanged a few tense hand-signals with Anselm before they both readied their weapons and stood a little taller, aiming over the trench._  
  
_Hartley fired his BAR at the flame canister while Anselm fired on the escort from right to left. In a flurry of bullets all five Germans were dead and the cats were huddled in the trench once again. “They're sweeping the mortar killzone further down our trenches and sending those kill teams after to burn out the survivors. So, we can try to link up with command by walking directly into mortar fire, or...”_  
  
_“Or we can stay here and stop the kill teams from making it very far, at least until one of them shoots first.” Hartley smiled back at Anselm, and it was clear the option they both favored. “It's been an honor, sir.”_  
  
_“No, it's been terrible. This unit was my responsibility and I failed all of you. I just hope my son grows up to be half the man you are.”_  
  
_“I just hope my brother stops taking LSD.” Their ears shifted to a new sound and the jokes ceased, their steps muffled by the meat of corpses as they worked their way to their next target._

 

* * *

 

The amount of bodies they'd stepped over had hardly registered in Anselm's consciousness, but Mae had never been to war before and it was making her stomach turn. The vision was as vivid as if she'd been there in his place. She could feel the blood on her paws. Casey's blood, to be exact. “O-oh my God! I'm so sorry, I completely spaced out and--”  
  
“It's fine, Mae. I'm fine.” She had scratched up his chest while experiencing her relative's hypothetical past within her mind, but it wasn't really as bad as it seemed while she was tripping on shrooms and high and drunk to boot. His red blood danced in her vision, expanding rapidly, threatening to drown her in the hellscape of war once again, but Casey was fine. He was petting her head and muttering nonsense into her ear, and that kept her with him in their present weirdness.  
  
Yet, it kept gnawing at her. The feeling that she was still reliving the past, until she blinked once and returned to the all too familiar terror of her dream. She hadn't had the faintest memory of the first part of her shroom trip until that moment when it came flooding back to her. Something about seeing Casey in her dream had triggered the memories, or maybe it was his all too familiar worried smile, the same one he'd given her that day, and just as vivid.  
  
“Thank you for saving me.” She felt that applied to so many things he'd done that she couldn't possibly decide which she was actually thanking him for, but he seemed to think she was talking about how he'd cracked a skateboard in half on Eide's face and shrugged casually.  
  
“Thank you for finding me, and with most of my soul still intact, too!” She didn't waste any more time, wrapping him in a tight embrace and taking a deep breath through her nose.  
  
“Wow, you even still smell great.”  
  
“Uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, patting her back. “You smell nice too.”  
  
Mae pulled back and stared directly at him with a blank expression. “I smell like sweat and failure.”  
  
“That makes two of us. Come on, I want to show you something.”


	4. The Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mae discovers a miraculous event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dwar234 collaborated with me on this for the first half of the chapter, helping me hammer out the pacing. He doesn't have a profile here yet but I'm giving him and my patrons a shout-out anyway. Thanks for your support, guys!

Mae followed the apparition she somehow knew was really Casey away from the projection of the Hartley household, her gaze glued to his back in spite of her apprehension from being closely watched in turn by the Deep Hollow Hollerers as they left. She wanted to turn back, to question them for what they were doing, to force answers out of them, but she couldn't let Casey leave her sight for even a moment for fear of losing him again. This same fear made her tentative and nervous when she finally began to question Casey about what was actually even happening.  
  
“So,” she started, fidgeting her fingers and biting her lower lip. “These aren't just dreams, are they?”  
  
“I know the appropriate cliché for this,” Casey replied with a smile in his voice. “I'm supposed to say that even if this was a dream then I'd say it wasn't, or that everyone in your dream would say that, but here in the real world dreams don't work that way.”  
  
“I mean, I mostly asked on behalf of all of our mutual friends. You know, since they all think I'm crazy.”  
  
“Well you aren't crazy. You never have been. Most people just aren't smart enough to understand you.” Mae's smile grew, even though she didn't quite agree with him. It felt nice to be defended, especially since everyone else, including her parents, just accepted that she was mentally ill as a fact.  
  
“Even if that's true I definitely am at least a little crazy.” Casey waved a paw dismissively as he led her onward, climbing over what looked like a pile of cables and tube television sets. Mae flexed her retractable claws before quickly climbing after him. Neither of them had ever had much trouble with vertical travel, getting up to places they really weren't supposed to be throughout their youth. “So like, if these aren't really dreams, then what exactly is this place?”  
  
“The belly of the beast.” They passed the shadow figure of an old wolf smoking a pipe, something about his figure vaguely familiar to Mae. “I'm not even being cute, that's literally what this is. We're here to be digested.”  
  
“By 'we' I assume you mean all these ghosts.” Casey nodded forlornly, his steps noticeably slowing as he took in more of their surroundings. There were flashes of light ahead that carried a slight reverberation on the wind and through the ground, and the ghostly apparitions were becoming less common further along.  
  
“They try to drift away from where we're going. It frightens them.” Mae huffed, clearly unphased as she swiftly redirected the conversation.  
  
“My point is that you don't look like them at all: you're still whole and moving around properly. Don't you think that means we could, like, I don't know, get you out of here?” Casey turned around and put a hand on Mae's shoulder, staring directly into her eyes with an intensity she had only seen from him once before.  
  
“Don't go in that hole, Mae. You'll end up here again, only this time you won't be able to leave.” She nodded, dumbfounded until he smiled at her and turned around again. She put her hands in her pockets and shut up, not sure what to say after that. She refused to just leave him to die, but if he wouldn't let her risk her own neck in the process he probably wouldn't be much help.  
  
“I see Hell.” She just said it without thinking, the distant explosions rushing closer with memories that weren't hers.  
  
“Mae?” They weren't walking forward anymore. The landscape was shaping itself around them, rushing by to place them somewhere else, somewhere with trenches, falling mortar shells, corpses, and fire. “What the eff? Mae, are you doing this?”  
  
“It's Hell, we're in Hell.” Casey was holding her again, but her shaky paws tried to push him out of the way. There was something she had to do and there wasn't much time left.

 

Anselm was dragging another cat through the trenches, over the corpses of their fellow soldiers, but he knew not where his destination was. His eyes were flitting from one horror to the next as he searched for something, anything he could use to save Hartley's life. “You'll see your son again, sir.”  
  
“Anselm.”  
  
“Th-there has to be something for burns like that. Cl-cleaner bandages somewhere f-for the holes.”  
  
“Anselm,” Hartley started again, his voice weak, “what are you doing?”  
  
“I'm trying to save your life, you asshole!”  
  
“Anselm. Drop me. We're out of medical supplies.” Something in Anselm broke in that moment. Somehow he'd managed to cope with the horrors of war in spite of his inexperience, but that part of him couldn't outlive his entire unit and everyone else they'd fought with in those trenches. His grip shook as he slowly lowered Hartley to the ground, his claws stuck in the fabric of his blackened shirt. “Scavenge for more ammo... and keep going.”  
  
“No, don't leave me, please.” Hartley weakly raised a paw, but he couldn't quite reach anything on his own, so Anselm let go of his shoulders and held it.  
  
“Don't let them through, the bastards. Don't.” Anselm nodded hastily, but it wasn't fast enough for them to have another moment. The sergeant breathed his last and lay still.  
  
“Get up.” Anselm sniffed and looked up, confused by that rough but clearly female voice, his eyes landing on a glowing apparition of a cat with a symbol he didn't recognize on her shirt. “You can't let them win without a fight.”  
  
“Why not? What is there left to fight for?”  
  
“His son! Your family! Everyone who doesn't have a place in a Nazi's world! It's not over yet, Anselm. I know you're stronger than this.” The soldier shook his head, staring at her and wondering why he was having such a vivid hallucination.  
  
“Who even are you?”  
  
“I'm here to help.” She seemed to stall for a moment, as if trying to come up with something better to add. “I'm the part of you that still wants to fight, I'm the anger that burns beneath your sadness, and I'm the embodiment of Hartley's last wish. Don't let them through, Borowski!” Anselm blinked, shaking his head in confusion. He thought he saw Hartley a few feet behind her, smiling proudly and giving that barely noticeable nod of approval he'd seen so many times before. Maybe he was going crazy, but it worked. He wiped away his tears, affixed a bayonet to his rifle, and flicked his ears up until he heard German speech. He'd found his next target. He would fight them until his body was broken, because they couldn't break his resolve first.  
  
“That was amazing.” In spite of how confident she'd appeared in front of Anselm, Mae was staring with wide eyes at the carnage around her even as it began to shift away, the weird geometry of wherever they were moving them further along.  
  
“Did that really happen, Casey? I can't have really been in the past, before I was even, like, I mean, time doesn't work that way, does it?” He gave her a pat on the shoulder and kept moving, looking over his shoulder to answer her.  
  
“This place has its own rules. His rules. You'll get used to it if you're here long enough. Come on, you just got us a lot closer to the Heart.” Casey seemed anxious about something, and it hurried his steps, Mae jogging to keep up until they finally beheld a vortex of light and blackness, a twisting horror of impossible geometry in more dimensions than any typical person could understand, much less perceive. Yet, they were both fine. Their minds didn't cave in on themselves, even with the whispers of the damned being stretched into an eternal whistling chorus. There were no insectoid monstrosities nor ethereal fish anywhere to be seen, and the surrounding landscape seemed to fade gradually into a field of empty space. The space between stars.  
  
“I know what you said now,” Mae said suddenly, wanting him to turn away from that thing and talk to her again. “I lived it again. I heard what you and Gregg were arguing about.”  
  
“Hmm...” He finally did turn to her again, tears on his cheeks glistening like the stars they could no longer see. “Did you ever love me back?”  
  
“I could have, if you'd just told me how you felt. Now I just want you back.”  
  
“Mmm, I guess I can afterlive with that answer.” While he said it he reached his hand into the Heart, and Mae was surprised when nothing significant seemed to happen. He was just flexing his fingers in the vortex, like a kid putting his hand out of a car window.  
  
“Are we doing ghost puns now? Is that what this is?”  
  
“There's one more thing you have to see before you leave. The blackness is tricky so follow my footsteps exactly as I make them.” She nodded, even though he was dodging around a topic she'd rather discuss in more detail. “Things will shift around out there, but you can always get to a focal point from the Heart if you know the steps.”  
  
As a new vision of the world came into focus Mae found herself regretting her words, because she did love Casey, and she always had. Maybe not in the way he loved her, but if he really did feel that way why shouldn't she take the opportunity to see what it would feel like to be with him, to just hold him close and not pretend she could stand to have him leave her at the end of the day. She just had to save him from whatever was happening and then they could try again.  
  
That's when she saw someone she never expected to see in person. She saw Adina Astra, sitting at the edge of the frozen lake, talking to the ghost from the story her grandfather told her so long ago. She didn't die, she just went somewhere else. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to disturb the two of them, and Casey led her to the far off edge of the lake and sat down. “It feels like you don't have much time left, but now that I've shown you the path you can probably come back here later if you want.”  
  
“Casey, I do love you, and I'm sorry.” She sat next to him, turned to face him, and spoke without thinking too much about what she was saying. “It's cool that Adina is still around somehow and that you found her for me in this mess, but I just want to spend all of my time here with you, and not just now but the next time too. And if you wanted to, like, do stuff with me, I would be okay with that. I don't know if you technically count as a ghost yet or not but I don't care either way.”  
  
“You don't sound like you really want to.”  
  
“I'd do it for you! I'd do anything for you, just don't leave again!”  
  
“Mae.” She stopped. She was breathing too fast. She felt like they were running out of time and she didn't know what to do. She hadn't had the time to process her emotions, or find out if she could return his feelings. He was supposed to be dead already and nothing made sense, least of all how their relationship had changed just because of one reclaimed memory. “Kiss me, Mae. Please.”  
  
She took a few calming breathes, slow and measured, and then she said, “Okay.” She straddled him, which he wasn't expecting, and she licked her lips with nervous anticipation. She hadn't expected him to take her up on her offer so soon, nor for something as benign as a kiss, but his expression was so anxious and desperate that she couldn't deny him, not after everything he must have gone through. She didn't ask him what they did to him, or how they forced him into the hole. He didn't need to relive that now, even if knowing would help her later. Instead she settled herself more comfortably in his lap and slowly leaned forward.  
  
The cushion of his legs brought them to a more matched height, so she only had to look up slightly when she reached him, and she pressed her wet lips to his. Something immediately changed in him, and he stopped being anxious or reserved. One of his hands held the back of her head while he deepened the kiss, his other arm wrapped around her back and pulling her closer, pressing their bodies together as he groped her curves and ran his tongue over hers.  
  
A wave of pleasure washed through Mae, like a particularly satisfying bite of pizza but much more flavorful, which wasn't at all what she was expecting a kiss to feel like. She gasped and pulled back, Casey sighing contently and placing his hands in the snow. “That felt.. great! But I don't – Casey?” Every time she took a breath she felt the pleasure hit her again, but Casey seemed to be struggling to hide a wince every time. “Are you okay?”  
  
“He sang to me, Mae.”  
  
“What the fuck are you talking about?”  
  
“I was so scared when they brought me to that hole, but they didn't just throw me in. They made me jump at gunpoint. Said I had to choose to do it myself. Either way I was dead, so I listened to the song.” She was starting to breath faster, shaking her head in denial, but with every breath he became less vivid, weaker, and it felt amazing for her, which just made it so much worse. Already she couldn't touch him anymore, falling through his legs like they were made of smoke. He was struggling to speak. “I just wanted to see you one last time, but then He told me what you are. He showed me that I could be with you forever if I jumped. Well, augh! In a s-sense, anyway.”  
  
“No. This can't be happening.”  
  
“He told me. He has to feed his children.”  
  
“This is bullshit! Stop it!”  
  
“I can't. You're the one eating me, remember?”  
  
“I don't know how to stop! Please, help. Stay. D-don't do this to me! Nnnn...” The pleasure assaulted her senses in stark contrast to her tumultuous emotions, her claws digging into the snow and her eyes trained on what was left of Casey. His projected clothes were gone, and threads of light seemed to be draining from his figure into her mouth and nose. His fiery orange fur and his brilliant emerald eyes were fading away. “Don't leave me, please.”  
  
“I'd rather you have me than him. The Heart stirred me up so you could take me more easily. He warned it'd be hard for you since you're so young. I did a good job pretending it didn't hurt, didn't I?”  
  
“You can't die again. It's not fair.” It got worse. Casey couldn't speak anymore. Mae was reminded of the voices in the heart when he groaned in pain. It was unbearable, but he couldn't let himself scream; he couldn't burden her with that sound. Eventually he wasn't whole enough to remember why, and his final wail was a pathetic whimper that resonated in Mae's mind relentlessly.  
  
It was over. He was nothing but a shadowy figure like all the others. The jolt of energy made her feel invigorated and energized, and the knowledge of why made her feel sick and disoriented. She stretched a paw toward the vague shape of his face, her padded fingers slipping through the smoke where his cheek used to be.  
  
“No.” She refused it. She fought it. She shook her head, her entire body trembling. “No.” But it still happened. He was inside her. She ate him. She didn't even know how she did it, and she couldn't get him back out. “No! Nononono!” Her claws raked at her flesh, ripping open her own belly as quickly as she could, but the wounds refused to stay open, her glowing fur and skin reforming with increasing rapidity as it kept pace with her mounting hysteria. “No! Come back! No!”  
  
She needed help. She ran across the lake toward Adina and her ghostly companion, waving her arms in a panic. When Adina turned toward her she was holding the same sort of lamp as the constellation representing her, and when the light hit her eyes she stumbled, sliding on the ice. “Stay away from her!” Adina was standing between Mae and the ghost. “I didn't fight my way here for you to take her from me, reaper!” The light burned.

 

Suddenly she was on the floor of her bedroom, having rolled off her futon violently in her sleep. Her paw reached to her cheek, feeling the three claw marks that Eide left there. It was still there. Her blanket was ripped up by her own claws where it got between her and her stomach, but that didn't account for the clean cuts on her face. It was real. It was all real.

 

_“And despite nature's intentions, God came through and blessed us with you! You were a miracle baby.”_

  
Mae crawled away, but she didn't know how to get away from her own thoughts. Which God? Which God? She was on her hands and knees in the middle of the room, nowhere left to retreat to. No escape. No escape.

 

_“After all the miscarriages, we'd given up hope.”_

 

_“God blessed us with you.”_

 

_“Miracle Baby.”_

 

There was no acceptance. There was no understanding. There was only terror at one stark realization.  
  
  
  
She screamed.


	5. The Song

One Week Later

 

Beatrice Santello was starting to worry about her childhood friend. For the past week leading up to the day when Gregg and Angus would be leaving for Bright Harbor she'd been beyond withdrawn. Bea had expected her to be a little subdued, or even depressed, but she just hadn't been around at all. She didn't come out to see Bea at the Pickaxe, and Gregg reported that she hadn't come to see him in all that time either. She was slow to respond to Chattrbox messages, even more so than usual, and she never seemed particularly enthusiastic in replies either. Considering everything she'd confessed on the couch that fateful night, Bea had the distinct impression that Mae was potentially a danger to herself, and she'd even considered telling someone with the authority to do something about it. Gregg had talked her down from that, reminding Bea of the possibility that there were more cult members active in the police force and elsewhere.

So the two of them were just worrying about Mae together, even if Angus was certain they were worrying for nothing. That in itself was suspicious, since all Bea really knew of Angus was how exceptionally compassionate he was and that he was rather smart. He couldn't be too dumb to see what was happening, nor detached enough not to care, so he must have been keeping something from Bea about the situation. She didn't dare talk to Gregg about that thought, silently stewing in her growing confusion and melancholy.

This morning might finally bring the anxious girl some concrete answers, if what Mae sent her on Chattrbox was anything to go by, and a small smile graced her face as she read it. “Sorry for being so bleh lately. It's been a rough week, but things are okay now. Head to the Party Barn as soon as you can. I've got something special planned for the band.”

“She sent that before I even woke up,” Bea groggily commented to herself. “Mae actually woke up in the morning.” Even saying it out-loud didn't seem to help Bea make sense of the idea, but even though it baffled her it certainly made her happy. Maybe she'd been worried over nothing, and Mae had just had a bit of an off week. Were that the case it would be a massive relief. Her efforts to be optimistic didn't prevent her hands from shaking during her morning routine, and by the time she reached the Pickaxe her fingers couldn't seem to keep the key under control. She had to take a moment to steady her breathing and force her irrational thoughts down. Mae's message meant there was definitely good news on the way.

Definitely good news.

* * *

Gregg was ecstatic to read a similar message on the computer he shared with Angus, flailing his arms and yelling at the screen in excitement. “Angus! Mae planned something for us! Oh my God, this must be why she hasn't been around lately. She's been pulling some serious strings, I bet.” Gregg rapidly typed out an enthusiastic reply to Mae's Party Barn summons, letting her know when he and Angus would be off work, but by the time he'd finished typing his mood started to sour again. He'd just reminded himself of what he had to do first. He had to go to work and see the vixen who wouldn't be his boss anymore the next day. He had to see Christine.

Gregg hadn't exactly been forthcoming with information as to why he got away with so much at his job, not to Mae or Bea, and not even to his boyfriend. For one, it helped him maintain a mysterious edge that kept people like Steve on their toes, but mostly there was the simple fact that what Christine was doing to him was an uncomfortable topic and no one could have helped him with it. The prospect of leaving her behind was a welcome one, but interacting with her at all was a pain, and it would certainly be much worse than usual now that she was about to lose him. He'd been obliged by policy to give a couple weeks of notice, which he would have ignored if he didn't need Christine's approval to assist him in searching for a job in Bright Harbor. A previous boss's seal of approval was a lot better than the opposite, so he did what he had to do, and he would have to do it one more time yet.

“Hmm.” The comforting presence of Angus distracted him from his sudden apprehension, the bear leaning down to read the messages himself. “She mentions us as 'the band,' so she might have a special song in mind.”

“Oooh! Oooh! What if she makes us play a song we've never heard before, like we've been doing to her?” Unlike Gregg, Angus had an idea as to why Mae had been so upset and withdrawn in the past week. He knew it had something to do with Casey's death at the hands of the cult, and since Casey was actively involved in writing original songs for them to play he was sure she'd pick one of those. They'd know the words, unless he was missing something hugely important.

“It's a good thing I have a half shift today.”

“And a last shift today! AWOOOOOO!”

“That too. My point is that I'll be around half way through the day to help her set things up.”

“You can't help set up your own surprise! You better ask Mae if it's okay for you to go in before you get there!” Angus rolled his eyes behind his glasses, but there was a smile on his lips from his amusement. Gregg was not amused. “Seriously, dude, don't mess this up for Mae. Having a sweet ass only get's you so many extra forgiveness points and you might have spent them all with her already.”

“I solemnly swear that I will ask her permission before I even look through the windows.” Gregg nodded his approval, but Angus was staring at him for the next minute before he spoke again, trying to riddle something out. “What did you mean by forgiveness points?”

“Huh?”

“You said I might have spent all my forgiveness points with Mae already. What did you mean by that, bug?” Gregg sighed, Angus' serious and apologetic tone bringing him back to reality.

“I just feel kinda bad for what we did at the Donut Wolf. When she tried to get herself killed and we almost lost her I started thinking about it a lot. Like, every morning a lot. I wanted to apologize for blaming her for everything. She showed up and I started acting like an idiot, then we both blamed her and it was always my fault.”

“Bug, don't be so hard on yourself. We still have two days. We can apologize at the Party Barn today.”

“You agree with me? Just like that?”

“I thought she was pressuring you to do those things you did together, but that was before I got to know her better, and if you don't feel like she did then I was wrong and I'm sorry.”

“Alright, alright,” Gregg put his hands up as if to defend himself from the tide of sincerity. “Let's save the mopey apology for Mae. She's the one who deserves it anyway. We should just be excited to leave this terrible town!” They were both smiling again as they made their way down to the bottom floor of the apartment complex, only parting ways when Angus reached the Video Outpost “Too” while Gregg still had a short walk from there to the Snack Falcon.

As he approached he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket to give his nervous hands something to do, and with a final deep breath he pushed his way past the door.

“Ah, Gregg, it's good to see you again!” Christine was a stunning vixen to behold, thin in the middle and curved everywhere else, always done up in makeup that drew eyes to her lips. Every time Gregg looked into her piercing orange eyes they seemed to be suggesting something promiscuous. He'd only ever seen her in formal wear, usually a decent looking dress of some sort, all cheaper knockoffs of designer pieces, and today was no exception. He thought the purple didn't really match her coat too well, but he'd keep that thought to himself.

“Am I getting straight to work today? I want to leave the place in good condition for the next guy.” As much as he tried to hide it he was dreading what she'd make him do next. He counted himself lucky that she'd never outright forced sex on him, but she'd done almost everything else. She expected him to steal a glance at her breasts every few seconds, because she enjoyed seeing him do it. She liked to brush her tail against his legs whenever she walked by, kiss his cheeks, or even run her hands over his arms like she was doing right then as they talked. He didn't mind that one so much, because she was mostly just feeling up his leather jacket, but if he couldn't keep her attention off the fact that he was leaving soon he could be in a much worse position.

“You work too hard, Gregg.” She was frowning slightly. He didn't like that. It took him a moment to realize why, and when he did he stared at her cleavage for a solid two seconds. He hadn't realized she'd leaned forward a bit to present them as a target. That worked and she was smiling again. “Gregg! Focus!” She feigned annoyance, swatting a hand against his chest and giggling. He tried to laugh like he meant it.

“S-sorry, Christine.”

“I thought about what you said, about that Borowski girl working here.” Gregg had thought for sure that she'd only consider other men, and maybe even specifically other Todds for the position so she could do the same thing to them as she was doing to him, but he'd put the idea of Mae taking his place out there two weeks ago anyway. Maybe he'd been wrong and he'd actually be able to do this for her. Apparently it was going to cost him, because Christine got as close to him as she ever had, her breath tickling his whiskers. She opened her mouth to say something else, but he couldn't do it.

She was taking it too far and he just couldn't stand there and take it. He stopped acting and bolted right back out the door, abandoning his shift and whatever was about to happen. He'd find some inane activity to distract himself in the woods until he would be expected at the Party Barn. He'd tried to help Mae but at the last and most crucial moment he'd failed.

He didn't notice Christine standing in the doorway, watching him run away with a hurt and confused expression.

* * *

Bea's day was dull from the moment she opened the Ol' Pickaxe to the hour she decided to close it, but at least she had some excitement in store for later. She couldn't count on Mae for much, since Mae didn't really do much, but she could count on her to make life interesting, because any time Mae actually did do something it was spectacular.

Flipping the sign to closed, Bea made her way down toward the Party Barn, but her town wasn't the same as it had been only days ago. The atmosphere changed quickly with both state and county police poking around in the trashy remains of the dying Rust Belt town, the peace of isolation robbed from the residents, many of whom didn't have anything else. Instead of seeing kids playing on the sidewalks and teens smoking by the monument Bea saw adults walking to their jobs with their heads down and frowns on their faces, cop cars occasionally passing everyone on the street. Citizen drivers didn't dare go faster than the nearest cop, and no one spoke when a police car was in sight, the feeling of being closely examined washing through them all.

The mystery they were all trying to solve was intimately understood by Bea, but talking with them about it wasn't an option. They wouldn't believe the truth and they wouldn't need to formulate an alternate theory to jail her and all of her friends just because of their apparent involvement in the mass disappearance; nevermind the fact that those missing were responsible for several other disappearances in the past, which would also likely be pinned on whoever was found guilty of the later crime. The state commissioner was trying to turn the whole thing into a publicity stunt to get more attention on the rampant economic decline of the area, but Bea knew it wouldn't help them in the end, especially if they actually jailed anyone. The only people they could catch were either innocent or justified by self-defense, and Bea certainly wouldn't go without making her stance that the state was in the wrong very clear.

None of that mattered when she stepped into the Party Barn and saw a drum set on the stage. “What?”

“Hey, Bea!” The others were already there, even Germ who was playing around with an opened Digisphere controller in the corner. “You won't need that laptop. We're actually playing everything this time.”

“I can't play real drums, Mae.”

“I know, but you could sing with us!” Bea gave Mae a look with the expression she wore most of the time: deadpan and unimpressed. “Ooookay, nevermind.”

“I'm spectating then.” She pulled the nub of a cigarette from her snout, dropped it on the ground, and snuffed it with her boot, quickly pulling another from the pocket of her tacky, Urevolution dress and lighting up. She held the stick of cancerous fumes to her lips, took a deep puff to fill her lungs with the burning poison, giving her mind the jolt of numbing nicotine she always needed. Then, she exhaled, Mae turning her head away casually. “Fine. Wow me.”

Germ came up beside Bea, abandoning his little project for the time being. “This should be good.”

“So I know Casey wrote _Die Anywhere Else_.” the atmosphere became tense for a beat while everyone dealt with the idea that they'd be talking about their dead friend, save for Bea who just felt awkward for not having known him that well. Then, Mae passed sheet music to Gregg and Angus. “Apparently he made it after I left, but he didn't finish it before the cult got to him. You finished one version, but George helped me with another that Casey was considering. It has a really hype intro, some nice, slow buildup, and I think he'd want us to play it together before you leave.”

Gregg was already crying. He couldn't just suck up Christine's advances to get Mae a job, but she went and did all this for him and Angus. He couldn't take it. He just stumbled over and hugged her around the neck, holding her stout frame close until he could compose himself. “Th-thank you.”

“No problem, dude,” she said awkwardly, almost anxiously if Bea was reading her expression correctly. Bea couldn't discern why she would feel that way though, and it bothered her. “Are you good to play?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, I'm fine, duder.” The second version had the same melody as the first, and Gregg picked up on the changes quickly, Angus stepping next to Mae and giving her a thumbs-up, signaling her to start. He'd join in at the chorus.

Mae took a deep breath, turned inward, and gripped her bass. “Please stay with me, Casey,” she whispered clearly to herself, and then she began to play. “Dust on this tired old street.” Her voice was crisp, focused, and charged with a degree of emotion and vulnerability Bea and Gregg hadn't heard since her confession on the couch. “Mark corners where we used to plaaaaay! Dust trace our tired old feet, In circles as we pace our time awaaaaay!”

Angus joined her, not growling aggressively like he did for the first version of the song, and his strong bass voice was the foundation Mae's soft tones needed to stay powerful as the instruments joined in. It was a genius choral technique, but that wasn't the reason Bea's cigarette fell from her lips. As Mae's fingers started to play the strings of her bass little threads of light sprouted from her, which was straight-up impossible magic on its own. This couldn't really be happening.

But Bea didn't wake up, because it was happening. Angus noticed right away, and his voice croaked a few notes in his surprise before he got back on track, watching her as closely as Bea was, until she saw what form the light was taking behind the drums and shifted her focus. Every move Mae made pushed more life into the apparition, and during the second verse something that looked a lot like a cat made of blue fog started playing those drums. The moment they heard it they knew it was Casey, somehow. Germ started backing away, his beak hanging open. Bea fell to her knees, dumbstruck.

Mae had written in a bass and drum duo in the middle of the song, and Gregg turned to watch with unbelieving eyes as Mae and a dead man played together. Gregg was openly weeping on the stage, but when it was time to start playing again he clumsily jumped back in, missing a few notes as he struggled to go on. He had to finish the song. They sang. They played. Gregg and Angus cried. Bea was shaking. The pace picked up at the end, concluded with a bang, and Mae threw her hands up triumphantly. “Yeah! Anywhere else! Can't... can't die here...” Mae didn't know exactly what she was doing, she just knew she could do it alone, but not for very long. Something about the others being there made it easier to push her limits, but it hurt now that it was over. Her eyes fluttered closed as her world went black, but she was at peace with her exhaustion. As long as she lived, Casey would never die.

She fell.

“Oh my God, Mae!”

 _“_ _Somebody help us!”_

_“Get my niece a doctor right now!”_

 

YOU PLAY FOR THE GODS


End file.
